


Scruffy

by thebearking



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Bearded Steve Rogers, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Gender-neutral Reader, M/M, Oral Sex, Other, POV Second Person, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Reunion Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 07:04:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19224100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebearking/pseuds/thebearking
Summary: It’s been over a year since you last saw Steve, and though you wish it were under different circumstances, you’re determined to make up for lost time.





	Scruffy

**Author's Note:**

> i saw a gifset of steve with the hair and beard from infinity war and i had this all typed out before i knew what i was doing. i rly miss that look. this is 90% canon-compliant, but i mess with the timing a bit in that they have about 3 days before thanos shows up.
> 
> reader is intended to be gender-neutral and is an avenger. enjoy!

You’d had it all planned out. As soon as Steve stepped off the jet, you would launch yourself at him and do your very best to bowl over his six-foot-two supersoldier frame. Then you would kiss him, in front of everyone, making Sam and Bucky proud and probably T’Challa a bit uncomfortable, and when you’d pull away Steve would be blushing and Nat would be smirking and you’d give Steve a look that promised a lot more than just a kiss.

When the jet landed and you stepped outside of the palace with Bucky, T’Challa, and Okoye, you had the smuggest look on your face. Bucky nudged you with his new arm.

“A little excited, are we?”

“Beyond that. I’m going to make Steve’s head explode.”

Bucky grinned. “Now that I’d like to see. Try not to kill him, alright, kid?”

“No promises,” you muttered, nearly holding your breath as the team descended the ramp. There they were: Steve and Natasha, followed by Sam, Bruce, and Rhodey.

Steve looked … different.

His eyes met yours and a smile crossed his face. Or at least it looked like a smile from where you were standing; the sheer amount of dark brown scruff on his face made his mouth a little harder to find than you were used to. He was bearded, with much longer hair than he’d had last year. Those were the same blue eyes, the same tall nose and wide shoulders, but that hair, that beard…

Bucky made some snarky comment to your right, but you barely heard him. All you could register was bearded Steve coming closer, bearded Steve strutting so sexily in that dark stealth suit, his hair stirred by the breeze.

He was right in front of you when you finally came to, thanks to a rather sharp nudge in the ribs from Bucky. You blinked up at Steve and shut your gaping mouth. Steve leaned in, arms coming forward to embrace you. His face approached yours and you saw him tilt his head like he used to do before kissing you and you panicked, turning your face away and instead giving him the tightest hug you could muster, even swaying side to side.

Overkill, you knew it.

“Hi,” Steve rumbled. Even his voice sounded rougher, somehow.

“I missed you,” you mumbled into his chest. When you pulled back, he was looking at you in concern, his brows drawn together and his mouth a hard line under all that scruff. You tried to look apologetic, but it was so hard looking at him square in the face.

Steve’s expression brightened when he saw Bucky next to you. “Good to see you, Buck,” he said with a smile, leaning in to hug him.

You took a moment to recompose yourself, smoothing down the front of your tactical vest. Your face felt so hot, like you’d dunked yourself into a hot spring. You were definitely sweating under your gear.

Greeting the others went by like a blur, and as T’Challa and Steve discussed plans of attack inside, you couldn’t stop glancing over at Steve anxiously.

Nat caught on too quickly.

“You’re welcome by the way,” she said. You looked at her, puzzled, and she leaned over to whisper, “I recommended he grow it out.”

You blinked, not daring to take your eyes off of him. You knew you should have been listening, but someone would relay it all to you later. Likely Bucky or Sam. “He could’ve just … dyed it. Some stubble maybe.”

“No, see, the beard was a must,” Nat insisted. “Changes his face completely.”

You shook your head slowly in disbelief, tapping your fingers against your thigh. Steve turned, and even in profile, he looked stunning. You knew you were blushing, but you didn’t care anymore. “I owe you my life,” you told Nat under your breath.

“Duly noted. I’ll come collecting some time soon, when this is all over.” The meeting ended. Nat rose, winking at you. “For now, enjoy.”

This was going to take some getting used to.

 

* * *

 

Shuri had estimated two to three days max before Thanos’s ship entered the atmosphere. That left at least two nights for you and Steve to get reacquainted.

You promised yourself you would check up Steve later that night, once you got a hold of yourself. You had just finished showering when you heard a knock at your door, and you opened it to find Steve, freshly showered, wearing sweatpants and a hoodie. His hair and beard were still dark with moisture, and he smelled amazing, like coconut and cucumber.

“Hi,” you said weakly, feeling exposed even in your cotton pants and T-shirt.

“Hi,” Steve returned.

The two of you stood there, silently facing each other. You gnawed on the inside of your cheek. Steve tipped his head to one side, watching you with a glint of amusement in his eyes. “May I come in?” he asked.

Good Lord, you were out of it. “Yes, yes, come in,” you stammered, stepping back to allow him entry.

“Unless of course you’ve got other visitors,” Steve quipped. You looked at him incredulously, and he turned, smiling. “Kidding. I hope.”

You stood there awkwardly while he sat on your bed, glancing around the room before his eyes settled on you.

“You look good,” he said. “Wakanda weather treating you right?”

You grunted. “I swear, everything’s better here. Even the air tastes different.”

“Good. You needed that rest, I’m sure.” He uncrossed his arms, leaning forward and bracing his hands on his knees. “I hope Bucky didn’t give you too much trouble.”

You silently begged him to cease the eye contact. Your face felt like it was on fire. “Nah, he’s only half the pain in my ass that you are.”

Steve’s smile was going to be the death of you. “Oh, I’m sure.” He paused, looking past you to the door. “You don’t seem all that happy to see me.”

There it was. You almost flinched at the hurt in his voice. “Steve, I couldn’t be happier. I missed you, you know that.”

“Yeah, I know. But you haven’t touched me other than that hug on the launchpad.” He gestured to the empty spot on the bed beside him, and you hurried over to sit down. “Everything okay?”

You sighed. “Not exactly.”

“Believe me, I know you’re scared. I am too. But we’re going to give it all we got and—”

“Oh! Steve, no, that’s—that’s giving me a lot more credit than I deserve. It’s not that serious, trust me.”

One of his brows rose skeptically. “Then … what’s up?”

Christ, he was so respectful even when he was worried about you. He hadn’t touched you once since your hug; you sighed again. “You just look … really different, compared to the last time I saw you.”

Steve’s brow furrowed. “And that’s … bad?”

“No! No, not at all.” You swallowed, fighting to hold his gaze. “It’s just, uh …” _Fuck it._ “You look fucking amazing with your hair and beard grown out and I’m having a hard time thinking about anything else.”

You held his gaze for three more seconds before standing up and pacing a few ways from the bed, pinching the bridge of your nose in shame.

“That’s it?”

You whipped around. “What do you mean, ‘that’s it’? I didn’t mean to worry you, I just froze up when you came out of the jet looking like a goddamn sculpture. I’m sorry if it seemed like I was ignoring you, I just—”

“So you like it?” Steve interrupted.

You could see the hint of a smile on his lips. “Yes, I like the look, quite frankly I love it. It’s just a lot, you know?”

“Explain.”

He looked genuinely curious, almost entirely innocent, but you remained unconvinced. Your jaw clenched. “Remember when we were getting upgrades in Tony’s lab and I tried on those thigh holsters and you left the room to calm down?”

Now it was Steve’s turn to blush. “Oh…”

“And that time I wore that swimsuit to the team barbecue and you wouldn’t leave the pool?”

“Yes, I—”

“And that time I showed you the new axe-throwing trick Nat taught me and you jumped my bones the minute she left?”

“Okay, look—”

“What I’m saying is, it’s like that. You look damn good for no reason and I don’t know exactly why but that beard makes me want to do terrible, terrible things with you. And _to_ you.” You squirmed, picking at the hem of your shirt. “So there.”

Steve nodded slowly. You wished you could read him better, or that he were worse at keeping his expressions in check. “So you’ve just … wanted to jump my bones since I got here?”

“I mean, I guess!”

He stood, looking relieved. “Well, that’s a coincidence.”

You swallowed hard as he slowly strode up to you. “How so?”

He stopped just inches away from you, staring down at you solemnly. “Cuz I’ve been wanting to fuck you since before the jet landed.”

Your brain broke. Every train of thought crashed. “Oh. Okay.” You thought nothing would be more difficult than trying to meet his earnest blue gaze, but this hard, steely stare of his was even worse.

Steve placed a hand on your hip, slipping it discreetly under your shirt and cupping the soft curve of your hip. You shivered a bit at his touch, leaning into it, and his other hand tipped your chin up to his. He leaned forward, then stopped, watching you expectantly. You closed the distance between the two of you and pressed your lips to his, kissing him with less fervor than you’d intended, but with a soft, slow warmth that communicated how much you’d missed him. You slung your arms around his neck, and he scooped you up, holding you effortlessly. You’d missed wrapping your legs around him, and you were intent on doing that and more for the rest of the night.

You couldn’t help but laugh a bit against his lips, and Steve pulled away, smiling as he walked the both of you over to your bed. “What’re you laughing at?” he asked, setting you gently down and covering your body with his own.

“So itchy,” you whined, chuckling when Steve rolled his eyes. You tugged at the waistband of his pants. “Can’t help but wonder how it’d feel in other places, though. Mind humoring me?”

Steve’s eyes widened marginally before he set his face with a determined look. Without answering, he lowered his head to your middle, pushing your shirt up over your ribs and pressing a kiss to a spot just below your navel. You took the liberty of taking the shirt the rest of the way off, tossing it to the side. He pulled your pants off next, kissing each inch of your left thigh as it was exposed, and you raised your butt to assist him. You could feel your blush spread down your neck, your chest, past your belly even, as Steve nosed at your inner thigh, pressing the flat of his fingers to the softness at the apex of your thighs over your underwear.

“You miss me?” he murmured against you, replacing his fingers with the heel of his hand.

You moaned at the hardness. “You don’t know the half of it,” you said breathily, letting your fingers curl into his hair. At least it would be easier to hold on to him.

You weren’t sure how Steve stripped you out of your underwear so quickly, but you weren’t going to question it, because soon his mouth was on you, his tongue was inside you, and then his fingers, solid and unyielding. His beard rubbed tantalizingly against the inside of your thighs, softer than you’d anticipated. He delved more deeply into your entrance with his tongue, and your back arched up off the bed with a moan. You hadn’t seen Steve since his last visit over a year ago, and yet he still knew your body, every bend and curve, all the places that, when touched, turned your legs to jelly. You had a feeling you’d remember his body just as well, as soon as he’d get out of those damned clothes.

“Steve— _Ah. Steve.”_ You struggled to get your words out when his fingers crooked inside of you. He peered up at you from between your legs, and you could kick him for how wide and innocent his blue eyes appeared. “Steve, take your clothes off, for God’s sake…”

Dutifully, he rose up onto his knees, and you whimpered at the removal of his fingers and tongue. He shucked off his sweatshirt, then his pants, and returned to his place between your thighs, nuzzling you gently before giving you one long, hard lick down the length of your sex. “You taste better than I remembered,” he murmured. “You gonna come for me, baby? Gonna let me see your face when I—”

 _“Steve.”_ Your grip on his hair tightened, and he raised his head to look up at you. “The mouth on you.”

“I recall you liking this mouth,” Steve mumbled, slipping his fingers back into you. You sighed deeply at the fullness, and then he removed them again, licking them in a way that made your sex throb miserably. The way he moaned like you were some delectable dessert … Goddamn him.

Somehow you found the strength to sit up, pushing Steve down. He allowed you to overpower him, watching you curiously, excitedly, as you leaned down and took the length of him in your hand. He was already half-hard when you enveloped most of him in your mouth.

 _“Fuck,”_ he hissed, pushing his hips forward.

Going down on Steve was … an experience. For one, he was so large and so strong that it gave you the best kind of thrill to know you could control him with just your mouth. He was also very vocal, and very handsy. You weren’t surprised to feel Steve’s hand in your hair, holding on for dear life. His hips bucked ever so slightly; you choked a bit, then relaxed your throat to take as much of him as you could, swallowing around him. Steve’s moans and whines were so low, so desperate, especially the breathy exhales of your name. He was almost pathetic, a writhing mess under your hand, breathing so hard and so loudly. When your sex started throbbing again, you reached down to relieve it, riding the heel of your own hand and closing your eyes, focusing on the sound of Steve’s moans, his quick harsh pants.

You came with a muffled shriek, and just when you were sure Steve would too, he tugged you up and off of his shaft.

“I need you,” he rasped, sitting up and pushing you onto your back. “God, I need you so bad, baby, I’ll _explode_ —”

You almost laughed. That had been your original goal, after all. You moved to turn over onto your belly, but Steve held your hip, stopping you. You looked back at him in confusion. He was hunched over you, holding himself firmly at the base.

“Another time,” he said. “Right now I wanna see you. Wanna see your face, beautiful.”

You nodded and opened your legs for him. Steve tapped your arm, and you wrapped them around his neck. He took your legs and placed them around his waist, opening you up further. Finally he guided himself into you, groaning as he sunk in to the hilt. You had forgotten how it felt for him to fill you up so completely. In his absence, your own fingers had attempted to replicate it, two or three at a time, as much as you could handle, but it was never the same, not even close. Sure, you could get yourself to come most times, biting down on a pillow or on your own arm as you moaned Steve’s name, but it couldn’t compare to the sensation of Steve filling you to the brim with his hardness.

Steve started thrusting, slowly at first, deliberately. He leaned down, kissing your chin. “God, I missed you,” he groaned into your neck, his voice ragged with need.

You gasped as he struck deeper inside of you. “I missed you, too,” you managed to say between moans, sinking your nails into his shoulders as he quickened his pace.

With each thrust, he kissed your neck with more force, until he finally nipped the skin, enough to bruise. Your moans and Steve’s filled the air along with the repeated wet smack of skin against skin. You dug your heels into his lower back, urging him deeper into you.

“ _Steve_ ,” you sighed.

“I’ve got you,” he answered.

You trembled in his grasp. Your toes curled, your walls fluttered, and before long the both of you were climaxing almost in tandem with one another.

Steve continued thrusting even as he softened inside of you, ensuring you could ride out the entirety of your high. He finally pulled out and fell onto his side to your right, catching his breath in a matter of seconds. You knew if he weren’t a supersoldier, you could seriously tire him out. For now, you’d settle for the deep blush in his cheeks.

You lay there on your back, eyes closed, steadying your breathing, rubbing your thighs together to offset the sensitivity between them. You knew you would be sore in the morning, but for now, you felt euphoric. You finally had Steve back, and although you would have to be back on the battlefield in a few days, you were going to enjoy every moment alone with him.

You opened your eyes and looked over to find Steve watching you, scratching his beard absently. He was so beautiful, hair tousled and eyes half-lidded, his lips turned up in a slight smile. He looked as satisfied as you felt, to say the least, and yet you knew with his supersoldier stamina—coupled with how long you two had been apart—he’d be up and ready to go for round two in fifteen minutes. The way he devoted every part of himself to your pleasure and fulfillment nearly brought you to tears. All of him, all for you. You’d missed him, dammit. More than you’d ever missed anyone. You never wanted to be away from him that long ever again.

“Never thought I’d spend my first night back with you in missionary,” you rasped, “but you make it work.”

Steve chuckled. “Sorry. Call me old-fashioned, I guess.”

“No, trust me, if I didn’t like it, you’d know.” You turned over onto your belly, smirking over at him, watching his gaze trace the length of your nude body. “But if you’re really sorry, I know a few ways you can make it up to me. That beard opens up so many possibilities.”

“Oh? How so?”

You reached over and held Steve’s chin in your hand, firmly enough to make his breath stutter. You angled his face toward yours, leaning in close so your lips brushed his. “I’m riding that face in the morning.”

You released him and began to sit up, until Steve grabbed your arm, his eyes dark with excitement. “Is that a promise?”

“It’s a _fact_.”


End file.
